


Traumaversery

by ShyChangling



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Abuse of Power, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Child Abuse, Child Soldiers, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Chorus Backstory, Chorus Trilogy (Red vs. Blue), Drugging, Forced miscarriage, Gen, Grooming, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Misgendering, Mysticism, Religion, Teen Pregnancy, Trauma venting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:26:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyChangling/pseuds/ShyChangling
Summary: War creates many things. Men into monsters. Religion into combs.And Children into victims.Sometimes the only people who see it. Are those who don't have words to explain it.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Traumaversery

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY so this was written over the course of three months from last november onward.
> 
> It was written during what I called Traumaversery. A time in my life that even if it wasn't the anniversary date of my trauma. It was a time when the emotional flashbacks were so strong I needed to outlit.
> 
> This fic is not explicit but there are some really horrible things that happen in it.
> 
> I understand if you are not strong enough to finish reading. And I hope you all stay safe.

Jensen takes a deep breath. Palomo is crying again for some reason. He's always crying though. He's so sensitive to everything. He shouldn't be holding a gun, he shouldn't be holding her hand to seek comfort. They're soldiers, they need to be strong. Training shouldn't put them off so horribly.

Everyone deals with it.

"I know. I know." Palomo wipes his eyes. "I'm being dumb again." He's fifteen. He's not tough like the others here. He just needs the extra training to keep up with everyone else.

Jensen is eighteen, she still gets special attention for training but since her birthday has come and pass the General stops paying extra work. Is it weird? She wonders. She feels alone now. In a way you do when the attention you got passes off onto another person.

She's not jealous. She'd probably call these emotions apathetic. She looks at Palomo gripping into her hand tightly like he wants to say something but he has no words to explain them. Which Jensen finds way too annoying, he's fifteen why does he act like such a baby. Why does he keep acting like he's ten.

"General Haler just wants us to be at our best so we can defend ourselves." Jensen says and pulls her hand out of Palomo's grip. "You need to stop crying every time you get done with training."

Palomo looks at her with his soft brown eyes. Like he's ready to break into tears again. But he holds them back, sniffling.

Jensen's face softens. "Look. It's okay to cry but you can't over every little thing. You're almost an adult. I don't even cry anymore." Which is a lie, she still cries on occasion but she can never place a reason. "Adults don't cry. Specially over training."

Palomo backs away and grips into his arms. It's not like Palomo is the only kid in the New Republic. There's Maddeline Matthews and... oh.... everyone else that young is dead. 

Jensen scrunches her nose trying to keep herself a soft demeanor. "Come on just talk okay. Tell me what is wrong. Won't you?"

Palomo opens his mouth. Then shuts it. He stiffens up as the door behind them opens. 

"Come on kids. Can't keep hiding in here forever you know. You'll miss dinner in the mess hall." It's the current General. Marvin Haler himself. He's in a soft rose pink suite. His armor neatly put away in his quarters. "Jensen, dear. Please do finish up calming the child down. No one needs to see tears here."

"I know.. I know. We're a family here." Jensen feels a hand through her hair nervously. The curls bounce back in place and Jensen doesn't look at the man directly.

Jensen walks with Palomo in front of herself. She puts hands on his shoulders and ushers him forward.

Haler though stops them as they get past the lockers and to the door. "Charlie. Are you still playing the silent game? You know you won't make many friends outside Jensen if you don't start speaking up."

Palomo's voice is dry and he laughs. He wants to cry again. "Not true." He manages out.

"There we are! What a sweet girl."

Jensen feels her heart squeezed. But it's not her place. Not like Palomo really tells people.

Palomo nods. He tries to speak again but he's just much too dry in the throat.

"It's fine, I promise I'm teasing. But I do hope you're making friends out there, I know there's not a lot here your age but." Haler has a sad soft expression. "I'm sure the older soldiers will be happy to play along with you when they aren't busy."

Palomo just nods again and hurries out.

\--

Palomo had found Matthews near the kitchen door out back behind the mess hall.

Jensen had parted from little Charlie and made her way inside to grab food. Palomo had wanted to be near a peer. 

Matthews wipes off flour from the cooking. He bounces as he sees Palomo make his way down the alley. "Charlie!" He chirps. "You're training done with?"

Palomo rubs his arm and nods with that dead look he's had since he got showed up to the New Republic. Matthews doesn't mind it. Everyone has dead eyes these days. Palomo smiles meeky and leans on the wall. 

It was nice to talk to someone on your level. Matthews didn't do much training. He was regulated to the kitchen. To help cook. He was just eleven when he showed up at the NR. Palomo couldn't image what training someone that small would do. But Matthews is fourteen by now. That's three years there in the New Republic's care.

Palomo is three years from aging out of the training at that. Palomo isn't sure he'll be ready for the adult training everyone else does. 

Palomo is glad Matthews doesn't have to deal with any of the training. Its too much, too stressful and scary. Palomo still doesn't speak. 

Though that's not really because of training. Matthews had pointed out the bullet scar on Palomo's back once. Even with the swimsuit covering him in the showers.

Everyone kind of knew about it. At first Palomo wanted to use it to get the upper hand in the New Republic. He wanted to talk about how he survived Locus' gun. But he couldn't talk, he couldn't word a thing. He just would cry.

Matthews sees Palomo start to tear up and he smiles big for the both of them. "It's okay. I know you're always upset after training. So I got us snacks." Matthews doesn't mind Palomo's tears. Crying was normal for kids.

Palomo hates that he can't keep a straight thought. He's always bouncing thoughts. He wants to focus damnit. He wants to focus and speak with Matthews. He wants to hear what Matthews has to say and respond to him like a normal kid. Not someone who has a spiral over random things because the train of thought hits him.

Matthews never seemed to mind though. In fact Matthews enjoyed the leaps of topic Palomo would state when Palomo did manage to talk to him. It was fun. So many conversions were possible with Palomo.

Though Matthews would be sad that Palomo never talked about the training. "Can you talk today?" Maybe he can get it out of him when they go and hide in the old training hall no one uses.

\--

Jensen would worry but then she'd label it all off to Palomo being none of her concern. Not because she's cruel but, because she's sure Palomo would just wrap her up in trouble too if they had dragged her into their talks.

Though Jensen is with Bitters and Smith. Jensen didn't mind being "one of the boys" not like that's the only people she hung out with. She had girls for friends too. She just found herself in the antics of these two more often than not.

Smith picks at his food. He notices it's not up to par with the previous months cooking. Guess that explains why the three of them will be with Lieutenant General Kimball on a scavenging run.

Smith scrunches his nose. No one here knows how an army is supposed to be run. Not even Smith, a military kid. He has books from his grandfather but he's never opened them. It's too painful to look at what his grandfather had seen. "Do you think, if I back out of this run. I'd get in trouble. I mean, I'm supposed to still be with the medics."

Bitters shrugged. "Do you think General Haler will actually care if you want to use your talents to heal, John? The guy thinks you're a muscle head."

"That's not true. He just thinks.. I'm better suited to have me on hand in case I'm needed on the field. Yeah you're right I shouldn't worry about the medics."

"That is NOT what I was getting at." Bitters tries not yell at him. Smith is just as old as Jensen. They both don't understand the type of situation this war is. It's a hopeless cause. Bitters has seen five years worth of it. Two years on the streets with Matthews and then bam. He gets to have a gun and survive another year. Bitters didn't like the New Republic General and everyone knew it.

Bitters never liked authority figures. Less so a Youth Pastor who gave them all guns.

Jensen stares at her plate. She takes a deep breath and wonders if she should talk to her friends about her apathetic mood. Interrupt these two before they get into a one sided argument. "Is it normal to cry after training. Like bawling kind of crying?"

Smith and Bitters turn to her. Smith takes a moment to think. "I don't really think so. Is this about Charlie again?"

Bitters leans back and huffs out. Course it's gonna be about Palomo. Who else still cries in this hell hole these days. Everyone else is a dried well.

"Well yeah I know he's still a kid and all but. I saw him after his training session and he was just. He was a mess guys. I kind of shrugged it off at the time but. Maybe I shouldn't of?" Jensen admits and curls her fingers in her hair.

Smith nods. "I don't think it was a good idea to shrug that kind of thing off."

Bitters scrunches up his face. He knows Palomo sometimes does extra training as the kid claims. But. No one really gets that extra type of attention without consequence. Bitters looks away and picks at his food and starts eating slowly to finish off his plate.

Smith keeps talking. "I think what's important is to talk to him about his problems and maybe see where the issue lies at. Or maybe you can talk to the General about it? He's been the one taking in Palomo's extra courses."

Jensen seems to want to shrink at that suggestion. "Yeah but the General already has so many other things to worry about. Why bother him with Palomo's health if it's something as easy as a friend talking to him to fix the situation right?"

Bitters scoofs. "Who do you think is causing the trauma?"

Jensen and Smith shush him. 

Jensen looks at her plate. "No it's not like that you know it. Haler is a good man. He's a pastor right. A man under a higher power."

Bitters rolls his eyes. "You mean his own higher power. The guy doesn't care about us, Katie."

Smith feels along the scar cut up along his face. "Haler just wants us to survive. So you know. He needs to be harsh sometimes."

Bitters looks ready to cry himself. But he's got an angry face. "You think that's to help us? Smith the guy fucking.. he..." Bitters starts to quiet down. No one wants to say words any more. The adults. Well the older adults are starting to stare and when Bitters starts to silence himself.

They return to their own topics as if nothing had interrupted them.

No one wants to talk about it. No one has the words to explain it.

But everyone agrees. General Marvin Haler is a man who cares deeply for children. He wants to see them prosper and grow. It's why he puts so much one on one focus with the child soldiers. He doesn't dance around that's what happened. That's why people trust him.

Haler wants everyone to survive this onslaught the Federation keeps pushing on them. So many places are being wiped out. There's no more children. There's only Maddeline Matthews and Charles Palomo.

It's what everyone latches onto when they see the former youth pastor at the head of the New Republic. A man of holy stature who took off his vow of pacifism to help people in war.

A man who saw so many children die that it broke him.

But no one really wants the truth. Bitters scrunches his face. They just want a quick fix to a worse situation. Bitters doesn't dare think of what would happen to Matthews if he ever started training.

Bitters stands up and storms out of the mess hall.

Smith raises his hand to stop him but, what's the point. Bitters doesn't trust General Haler. Smith isn't sure he trusts him either but he wants to.

Jensen stays completely silent. Part of her wants to put blame on Palomo. She's not sure why she wants to do that. Palomo isn't even here.

\--

Palomo sits in the large old training gym with Matthews. Crossed legs and nomming on things that might actually be expired candy bars.

Matthews has out a box of symbols and old Earth Runes from different places Mathews has only ever read about. "Okay I know you won't talk to me with words. But maybe this can help us? Mama used them a lot and sometimes I see Jensen playing with something similar."

Palomo shrugs. "Sure." He says as if trying to prove he can actually talk. It's just not a great time to.

Palomo reaches for the box and holds out some symbols.

Matthews beams. "Looks like we got contenders!" Matthews points them to the ground. "Let them gently drop and we can see what you are unable to say."

Matthews looks over the Futhark Runes. Mannaz, Kauno. The Self Wounded. Hagalaz and Jera, the Cycle of Misfortune. Thurisaz is there. The Giant.

He tilts his head. This reads very horrific. Something is looming over Palomo, and it is causing him great harm. Matthews smiles softly and takes Palomo's hand. Palomo doesn't flinch he's transfixed by the pretty runes and what they might be saying.

"Well you seem to be hurting. Something has loomed over you. I should probably tell someone but." Matthews pulls out more runes and sets them on the ground. Ansuz, Odin? Messenger? Tiwaz. Naudiz. Necessity for courage or warrior? "I think someone wants me to be brave. But why a message, why me?"

\--

Matthews, after dinner was done and lights soon would be out in the hide away, takes his box back to his shared room with Bitters. Bitters is smoking, kind of heavy tonight. Matthews smiles and waddles over to him careful of his box. "I got to do a reading today!"

"What? Oh, runes." Bitters looks at him after his thoughts come back together. 

"It was the strongest talk I've ever had!" Matthews beams and then he starts to frown. "But. Palomo is getting hurt it seems from what I learned."

Bitters looks down. As if before he was lost to his own thoughts. "Explain, Maddie. I don't get what you mean when you don't spell it out."

"Palomo is hurting himself. Or maybe someone else is. But it's a cycle that's for sure so I know it happens more than once."

Bitters scrunches his face. "And?"

"I got a message from Odin's rune." Matthews holds out the runes Matthews pulls from a pouch after setting the box down for Bitters to see. "I think I need to be brave."

"No.. I don't think so." Bitters looks over the runes carefully and blows smoke turning his head away from Matthews. "You don't need to be brave. I think means, need a warrior of necessity."

"What's that mean?" Matthews asks rocking on their feet.

Bitters takes another drag. "Well. I guess someone needs to say something. But no one wants to do it."

Matthews rubs his arm. "I could. I can talk to Haler and he can do something about-"

"Not Haler!" Bitters says cold and stern.

Matthews cringes and raises his shoulders.

"Look. Just listen. No one, especially not the General is gonna listen to a kid talk about magic runes giving messages. He's the kind of guy who doesn't actually believe that shit." Bitters puts out his cigarette and sighs. "Put away those runes and go to bed, kid." Bitters lets up a softer smile. "I'll.. deal with things."

\--

Bitters walks back with Jensen and Smith as they trail behind the Lieutenant General and the hired merc.

Bitters thinks Kimball is way too young to be in the rank she's in but. It's a chance. Fate perhaps that puts her in his path. He looks at Smith and Jensen who have gotten into the topic of collecting material for melee weapons. Bitters snorts, he wonders how much they put out their thoughts on the obvious damage done to them here.

Bitters wonders if Kimball ever suffered.

If not, she was a kind woman. Who if not careful would get her sleeved heart torn out and stomped on. Bitters shakes his head that was an awful image to behold. But if anyone could help, if someone should know. It's Kimball.

Bitters turns his head to Smith and Jensen then walks ahead of them. The two behind him stop in their tracks. Unsure if they should stop him. Or.. or if they even want to stop him.

He doesn’t talk to her there. He waits until everyone is in city to scavenge and Kimball is alone with the merc.

“Lieutenant General.” Bitters says nearly cracking his voice.

The merc for hire Felix is the first to notice and bumps Kimball’s arm. Catching the woman’s attention quickly.

Kimball turns to look. “Yes, Private Bitters?” She sounds so tired. She almost would usher him to make his words quick.

“Are you aware of..” Bitters feels his voice crack again. Why is this so hard. “What do you know about.. General Haler.”

“He’s a hard working man if not a bit.. Eccentric when it comes to his beliefs.” Kimball sounds so dry when she says it. Like she’s trying to sound respectful but something is off put about it.

Bitters rubs his armor with his hand. “Well. Yeah that’s one way to describe him. But I mean.. It's.”

Kimball tilts her head. Something must be up. 

“Have you noticed he takes too much time aside to ‘train’ that Charles kid.”

There’s silence a moment as if Kimball had pondered the interest before but.. “It's disconcerting to me. Yes.”

Felix adjusts himself and leans to his left leg. “You got a point to make.” He thinks he knows exactly the point Bitters is trying to make. And he’s not liking it. He can see Kimball’s discomfort in her body language. She’s scratching at her leg.

Bitters’ voice is dry as he works to speak. How is it possible this was ever a thing that people could explain. How was there ever a situation something as evil as this could happen. He still remembers when Jensen would hide in his room to escape training when she was the favorite. Hide her bruises and .. “Have you noticed what he’s done to any of us?” Bitters says nearing accusation. Broken and nearly nervous.

Kimball had suspicions. Yes but suspicions are not solid proof. “Are you being hurt, Antoine?”

Bitters turns his face away. “Not me. I’m too old but.”

That’s not a wording that should ever be used in a discussion like this.

“Bitters. Is Charles being hurt then? Who else.” She has an urgency in her voice.

Felix feels a burn on his back. Not a feeling he’s felt in years. An empathy burn. He keeps a straight body and looks to Bitters. Who seems to have gone silent as if he’s second guessing tattle telling on the General.

Felix looks to Kimball. “Well. What do we do about it, Vennessa?”

Kimball bites her lip under her helmet. This seems like something she should of seen. The red flags are all there, the more she thinks on them the more damning they are. But it's still not solid proof. “Not sure. If we can get testimonies?” She asks Bitters again. “Who all is being hurt?”

Bitters tries to speak again and his voice cracks. “I don’t know if I can say.” He was so sure he could do this. And now suddenly because it involves Smith and Jensen, he’s not sure he can make them …. Victims. It was as if he’d damn them to a label he wasn’t sure they wanted.

Kimball doesn’t have all the details. Worse being not even the most mature of the kids can’t seem to find words to describe what type of harm is happening. She scratches at her armor nervously. “Then Charles?”

“Palomo is the only one I’m outing.” Palomo can’t speak for himself and he’s always crying. Bitters isn’t sure if he’s taking something away from Charles. The sense of choice with admitting what is happening. But at the same time. If Bitters doesn’t then Jensen and Smith will of survived for nothing.

Caring hurts too much.

“You got any actual proof of this besides your word?” Felix says. 

Kimball is quick to bolt her head up to him. Stunned at the almost dismissal of his words.

“Don’t get me wrong. It's horrible. But if we don’t got proof who the fuck is gonna listen to you, us or fuck. Who’s gonna listen to the mute?”

“Felix..” 

“You know I’m right, Kimball. The guy is well loved among people and he gives security. Do you really think they’re gonna just let you waltz in there and proclaim him a child beater?” Felix crosses his arms. “No one is gonna listen to Bitters either. Not with his already dislike of the General.” And not with the fact that he’s a kid. Just a stupid kid who could easily be seeing the wrong thing or hear somethng out of context. 

Felix doesn’t think so though. That empathy beast in his back burns like fire. And he really wants to crawl out of his skin and not deal with anything that can resemble That situation he long since left behind.

Kimball takes off her helmet just so Felix can glimpse her glare. She shouldn’t take her helmet off, she knows but Felix’s words shouldn’t of been said with Bitters in the room. They can argue how to collect evidence later; Bitters must of worked so much courage to come forth to speak. “You know Palomo is silent because of the trauma the Feds gave him.”

“Yeah I know.” Felix tilts his helmet down so his visor can glare back. “Why do you think its important to get evidance its fucking Haler and not previous trauma from the Federation.”

Bitters stands there. Now feeling the unnerving tension between the hired gun and the Lieutenant General. 

“So what. We do nothing till you have evidence? What if it's too late by then?” Kimball forces her helmet back on.

“Because if you don’t have solid proof he’s just gonna get away with it and you create the start of an alarm fatigue.” Felix crosses his arms. He wants to pull at his hair.

Bitters opens his mouth to speak but no words come. So much confidence built up and now. It seems to be brushed under the rug. Felix is right, as much as he hates it. Bitter’s only evidence is Matthews telling him about magic ruins, anything Jensen or Smith could say but won’t. And seeing Palomo cry.

And everyone sees Palomo crying. Everyone sees it and now he’s got a reputation of just being a sensitive child.

\--

The rest of the evening was slow. Dreadfully slow. The longer they all were all away from base the more aware the Private trio were of Palomo and Matthews being alone unguarded. 

It wasn’t often they were hyper aware. But Jensen and Smith felt sick. They knew Bitters would of said something to the Lieutenant General, so she was now in the know. But.. How much can that really help?

Jensen has been feeling sick for some time now. No fever just nauseous dread. She didn’t want to think about it. 

Smith stood by her all the way back to base. They kept distance from Bitters, but not because they were mad. It was a strange feeling.

Kimball wasn’t sure if she wanted to leave these kids alone. There too in her was a knot turning in her stomach. She looks at Felix and can’t understand why he couldn’t of waited till they were in her quarters away from the ears of the Private and explain his thoughts. Why he had to be so bluntly well, cruel might be too harsh a word. Yet it's the one her mind concludes his actions to.

Kimball looks behind and sees Private Smith and Jensen so far off from Bitters. She wonders if those two were hurt. Smith had that odd scar but that was from a training accident. One… she wasn’t witness to. She bites her lip and looks forward. 

Eventually she sends the young soldiers off. Bitters runs quicker then she’s seen him run in a long while.

Jensen and Smith stay with one another before Smith eventually felt he should check in with the medics.

Kimball looks at Jensen who looks to the floor. Kimball remembers when the General brought her in. He seemed so kind then. But there was an aura of unnerving gentleness in the way he talked to her. Talked about her.

“If you need to talk, Katie. I’m here for you.”

Felix stands and watches them a moment. That burning in his back was horrible. “I’m off to shower. Don’t do anything stupid while I’m away.”

Kimball glares and returns to look to Jensen.

Jensen holds her helmet in her hands. “I should go back to the girl’s barracks. I think Jessica will miss me if I’m gone too long.”

Kimball frowns. She had hoped maybe to get some information but, if Jensen isn’t ready so be it. She isn’t sure waiting till they come to her is the right choice of action.

Felix is right though. Without concrete evidence… what can she do.

\--

Palomo couldn’t sleep very well. He grabs his swim suit and heads to the locker room. He remembers showering helped with sleeping. And it's not like he was told he couldn’t shower if he couldn’t sleep.

However, instead of heading to the showers he starts to wander about. It's quiet. Some of the adults coo at him. Palomo hated that. They always treat him like he’s so much younger than he really was.

Was it his size? Because he’s so small and round faced. 

He eventually runs into Felix who was out of his quarters sharpening his knives to show off. Palomo stands a good distance from him till his attention was finally caught.

Felix turns his helmet and sets his knife on his lap. “Shouldn't you be in bed, kid?” Felix looks down and sees the swimwear. “Didn’t you already shower before you left?” Felix doesn’t want to look at this kid. After hearing about things going on behind the scenes. Things he probably already guessed where happening. He was tired of feeling his back burn open. “Go to bed.”

Palomo opens his mouth. “I… can’t sleep.”

Felix snorts. “Welcome to the club.”

Palomo runs over to him. Mistaken that as in invite to interact.

Felix tenses up. No one needs to be that eager for attention. Fuck did it unnerve him. Why did it make him feel like throwing up too? “What. You think you’re gonna avoid sleep if you talk to the big bad mercenary?”

“I…”

Felix tilts his head. “Come on kid. Are you scared of me or something?”

“No, yes? I don’t know.”

Felix takes off his helmet and smiles. Letting his hair bounce abit. “There we are. How’s this. Less frightful for the selective mute huh?”

Palomo pouts. “You look like shit.”

Felix sits stunned and sets his helmet on his lap over the knife. “I’m trying to be nice to you you little shit bag.”

Palomo covers his mouth with his swim suit to hide his grin.

Felix smiles lightly. “Ah, so that’s just what you want huh? Someone to make fun of? Be a little bully.”

Palomo raises his shoulders. “Am I?”

Felix snorts. “I’ll live. But watch what you say to people, kid. Someone who’s not me might gut you.”

Palomo nods and puts his arms to his sides. “I… I heard from the others that you might be going on recon.” Palomo forces the words out of his mouth.

Felix looks down at him. “You’re certainly talking a lot, huh. Are you really that comfortable around me.” Felix shrugs. “Not that it matters, but yeah. I’m going on recon soon.”

“I want to go.”

Felix laughs. Then realizes how serious the kid is, “You’re much too young to do any of that.”

“But I’m old enough to be trained and I’m prepared for everything.”

Felix scrunches his nose. Prepared for anything, it echoes in his head as he feels the cigarettes pushed into his back. Kicked to the side and left for dead. “Hah, you’re not prepared for jack shit.”

Palomo stomps a foot. “I.” His voice catches as he tries to find words again. “I have worked hard. I need to be on the field.” Palomo stumbles over his words. “I need to be there.”

Felix glares and huffs out his nose setting his helmet to the floor and stands. He shoves his knife’s hilt into Palomo’s hand. “Stab me then.”

Palomo looks up at him then at the knife. “I?”

“If you’re as prepared as you claim. You can stab me no problem.”

Palomo takes a long breath in. Then backs up a few feet.

Felix watches him curiously. He can see the kid’s hands are shaking and then suddenly they stop cold.

Palomo holds the knife pointed in front of himself and charges. But Felix so easily sidesteps him.

Felix then maneuvers behind him and kicks him on his back down to the dirt. It wasn’t like he’s trying to be cruel in this moment but the kid desperately needs to know he’s in no place to battling on field. With knife, or gun. Or whatever the hell else Haler is teaching him. Felix sees Palomo grip the knife tightly and rolls onto his back swiping at Felix’s foot.

Felix’s instinct kicks it and Palomo finds himself pinned to the ground. “Look!” Felix says glaring down. Trying to keep most of his weight off him. “You’re far too young to be doing any of this. You can’t even hold a knife right right so why should I expect you to use a gun the right way when you have someone to shoot.”

Palomo opens his mouth silently. Like he’s trying to mouth words. And finally something comes forth. And it chills Felix so horribly he nearly throws up on the kid.

“Do I go to your room now?”

\--

Haler had called for Jensen to meet him near his quarters by the next morning. A small letter in Jensen’s locker alerts her to come see him. She feels her heart sink, she’s not sure why. Is it cause things are starting to get out of hand? 

Did he hear about Bitters calling the alarm to Kimball? Did he hear about Matthews saying things about magic ruins telling fortunes that somehow spilled some secrets.

Smith looks at her and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Its okay, I’m sure it's nothing dire. We aren’t training with him any more so.. It shouldn’t be anything taxing.” Smith smiles and his scar looks so painful to her.

All Smith wanted to do was tell Haler to take it slower on everyone. It wasn’t meant to be a punishment. It was just an accident. The General doesn’t hurt people. He never means to. He loves them. So dearly.

Jensen takes a deep breath and works on her undersuit. It was a little tight lately and really it was starting to bother her some. But regardless, if she’s wearing it it’ll remind Haler she’s too old now for their training. But honestly? It only lasted a year.

Or maybe he’ll want her to train with Palomo. He did seem to like seeing them interact.

She shakes her head and fits into her suit. “You’ll meet me for breakfast then right?” Maybe she should skip breakfast if she’s gaining weight. No. That’s stupid. So what if she’s gaining a little weight.

\--

However that seems to very much be the thing Haler has called her for. “We don’t have the resource, Katie. If you’re getting bigger, we need to get new material for your undersuit. And then armor.” Haler has that soft knowing voice he always seems to have.

“We can’t let people talk, Katie. And frankly I think it would be more traumatizing to you in the long run if we keep you unchecked.” Haler has pills in his hands. “I … may of found a solution that’s the least horrific. So no worrying about your eating habits. And you don’t have to worry about the gossip.”

Jensen has her arms folded in front of her. “What kind of pills are they?”

“Diet pills. Just diet pills.” Haler takes her hand and then plops the pill bottle into them. “Just take them a week. And we don’t ever have to worry about it.”

Jensen looks up at him. “But.”

She stiffens as she feels him pat her stomach. “Just take the pills and we’ll get rid of the extra weight.”

\--  
Kimball stands up on stage listening to the General’s rallying speech. He’s enthusiastic today. Which didn’t surprise her, he was always enthusiastic about his speeches.

“Our core belief is a strong and brighter Chorus. Remember it as it was, and think of it as it soon will be.”

Kimball has honestly started tuning him out. She never really looked at him positively and now she can’t stomach the man’s words after hearing Bitters talk.

“I am here to guide you and bring you to its glorious gate. This new brighter future we will build for the children. For they are who this is all for isn’t it?”

Kimball starts to scratch at her armor. Its hard to imagine a man like him actually doing anything to benefit the children.

“But before we can reach the Brighter Gates of Chorus. We must suffer these hardships. We must shoot and kill and do many things we would never do in our future kingdom. But for now. I shall be your shepard, your lighthouse. I will be your symbol of the future. And all symbols must be protected.”

Kimball tilts her head. That’s.. That’s a new line to the speech?

It seems no one has caught it as the clapping that assumes is the same as usual. Though now Kimball wonders if she has misheard him.

She walks with the General down and holds her helmet. “Adding things to the usual rally cry?” she asks trying to sound casual.

“Oh that? That’s just motivational. I’m not meaning I literally need protection. Just the rank needs it. See the failures we have suffered with the last two Generals if they didn’t get personal enough with everyone.”

“I.. can’t really argue that. The first General was though the only one with a proper military career and I think he’d disprove of you making this rank so.. Untouchable?”

“Relax Venessa. I’m not making myself any kind of god. I’m just creating something everyone wants to protect.”

Kimball puts on her helmet and scrunches her face to hide her disdain.

\--

Smith holds back Jensen’s hair as she throws up into a toilet. Maybe she’s getting sick. She’s been like this for weeks.

Smith uses his other hand to rub her back and then holds out a bottle of water to her. 

He says nothing when he sees her down the bottle with two pills. He wants to say something but. Is it really his place?

\--

It's late into the next night. Palomo readies himself in armor much too big for him. He’s hidden himself in the trailer carried behind the warthog. He keeps his head low so Felix doesn’t notice he’s out of place.

He knows Felix has told him not to come. He knows Felix quickly scolded him for his words, even if Palomo isn’t sure what he said wrong. But Felix doesn’t understand. Palomo has a trigger to put through a certain merc’s head, and he needs to be away from base for awhile. These goals just happen to coincide.

So what better way to get revenge for your family and stay away from training then to get on the field where you hear Locus might make an appearance.

What better way to get people to love you if you’re shot.

Wait no. Palomo isn't sure why he thinks so strongly about that last one. But he remembers the woman, Dr. Grey who so wanted to take him in.

How nice she was. And scary too. So motherly. But she only gave that attention because he was shot in the back.

So maybe people will pay attention to him if someone might shoot him again. And maybe people might be so busy adoring him that he wouldn’t need to train.

These thoughts conflict though with Palomo’s main goal. How can he get a bullet through that X and skull if he’s the one shot instead.

Maybe being loved can happen another day.

The vehicle comes to a halt and the soldiers slowly move out. Palomo is careful to be the last to leave to be unseen. But there’s a hand to his shoulder and a very stern gleam off Felix’s viser.

“I swear to whatever god is watching us. If you don’t tell me who you are I might have to put a bullet in your foot.”

“P! Palomo sir!”

There’s silence and Felix lets out a done huff. “Fucking shit kid how the hell did you get this armor!”

“I found it in the garbage.”

Felix taps at his helmet. Thinking long and hard. “You really wanna be out here that bad?”

Palomo rolls on his heels and looks up at him. “Yes sir!”

“Then stick with me, or die alone.” Felix is not going to play games. Palomo will have to see what goes on out here some day. Felix scrunches his nose. He doesn’t need this burning in his back, he doesn’t need that squeezing of his heart. He doesn't need any of this bullshit.

Palomo reaches his hand to Felix’s. Which Felix quickly pulls it away.

“That’s not how this works out here. There’s no comfort for anyone on the field. And there’s no sympathy either.”

Palomo feels like he’s in a whiplash. His palms shake and he’s not sure how to deal with being yelled at.

Felix wonders up to the high shelf of the nearby cliffs of the snowy plateau. He motions for Palomo to stay low and by the rocks. “Kimball is gonna have a fucking heart attack over this.”

Felix scrunches up his nose looking back at the kid as his radio goes off. “Can’t talk right now.”

Palomo tilts his head. Is Felix on a different radio channel than everyone else? It must be to base directly maybe? 

Felix aims his gun and feels his vision shake. Fuck not here. Just cause there’s an audience doesn’t mean he needs to panic about his sniping. “I should have kept you near the damn car.” But that’s way too open, and there’s no way in hell he trusts the men he came with to keep Palomo safe. Less so given today's true agenda. No.

No kid needs to see that.

There’s a soft noise on the air and Palomo feels like something is dangerously wrong. He moves over to Felix and reaches his hand to him. 

“Not now kid.”

Palomo opens his mouth and shuts in. He then stands and moves lower down the rocks. Surely it's his eyes playing tricks but.. There was movement invisible to the air.

Felix snipes out a Fed and turns back to see where Palomo should of been near the rocks and nearly shouts. Course he shouldn’t take his eyes off a goddamned teenager. Felix takes another quick snipe through his gun and tosses it down. “Anyone online. Palomo I know you’re tuned to the radio in your helmet where the fuck did you go you little shit.”

There’s gun fire surrounding them. Fucking shit. Felix turns his radio back to his private channel. “I know I told you I couldn’t talk, but I’ve got a problem now.”

\--

Palomo moves carefully along the rocks keeping low. And keeping silent. Following the mirage that walks along the snow. Following the prints in the soft white field. Palomo feels his palms sweat and pulls his gun out. Remembering to check for bullets and aims for the back of the Mirage’s head.

The sound is so fucking loud in his ears. But it worked the mirage now solid colour falls into the snow. White armor. Fed. But still not the damn armor that he saw back home. And certainly not the walking X box.

His radio goes off and Felix’s angry voice is heard through it. Palomo panics and tries to cover his ears and backs into a wall. Palomo tries to say something and his voice is caught.

“I.. Felix..”

There’s movement in front of him. Mirage like and Palomo goes into another panic. He raises his gun and it is knocked from his hands. Palomo breathes loudly. There’s a hand at his throat. Then Palomo is thrown skidding through the snow and his helmet comes loose. “Wait!” Palomo shouts at the mirage.

The image takes solid colour and yes it was the devil Palomo had seen before.

Locus just stands there. Silent, he lifts his hand and seems to be listening to the radio. “You should have reported this sooner.”

Palomo takes this time to pull his knife and goes running straight for the monster in man’s armor.

Locus barely budged from his spot and he manages to grab Palomo’s wrist. He lifts his hand up, not enough to hurt him but enough that Palomo will grow tired as he struggles to fight him.

Palomo is crying. He thought, just like in the old movies the hero would get his vengeance. The hero would earn some recognition. But Palomo should of known he was never the hero. He was more like a sacrificial lamb. Someone to mourn and love only after being injured or dead.

Locus twists Palomo’s wrist till the knife is dropped. Locus feels his stomach twist with it. No time for that. 

Palomo looks up at him with eyes that Locus feels sick looking into. Locus drops him into the snow and pushes him down. Covers his eyes with one hand and pressure points his fingers with the other into his neck. 

There is no honour in killing him. There’s only shame in it. Locus feels his stomach increasingly drop the more Palomo struggled under him.

Palomo knows what it means when you lost in training, what happens if you don’t die and lose on the field? Palomo feels his head grow light and he grips into Locus arm plates. “I… I.” Palomo rasps. “No more… game.”

Locus tilts his head and knows this child is the same he shot two years ago. Unfortunate. Locus would question the comment but there’s no point. Felix makes his round in the snow to them and Locus drops Palomo’s head as he’s out in the cold.

Felix takes off his helmet and pants. “He’s alive? Where’s your no survivor motto?”

“There was a massacre. And you could only save one soldier.” Is all Locus says as he stands looking at the kid’s tear stained face that starts to frost.

Felix snorts and wants to pull at his hair, his hand tediously scratching at his helmet for only a second. 

\--

Palomo finds himself in the trailer in the back of the warthog. He bolts up. He feels anxiously at his armor and feels relief that it's all still there.

“Do you realize how fucking lucky you are I was here!” Felix climbs into the back. “He could of killed you! Do you want that, Charlie? Did you want to die?”

Palomo looks at Felix whose face is so angry it causes Palomo to break again. 

Felix rolls his eyes taking off his helmet. “Don’t try it.”

“I’m sorry.”

Felix feels his back burn and reaches his hand for Palomo’s. “You’re all that’s left, Palomo. Be happy for that.”

“How.. how can I be happy if I’m all that’s left?”

Felix can’t answer that question.

“My family is gone. So I was all that’s left of that.”

Felix scrunches his face.

“I follow you into a death trap and we’re all that’s left?”

“I don’t know how to make this sound good, Palomo. But sometimes people die and you need to accept that and move on with your life.” Felix grips Palomo’s hand. Yes this is an artificial feeling Felix is having. This is Felix’s persona. This is not Felix seeing himself in this kid’s situation and this is not Felix wanting to spare his life.

Nothing good comes from attachments and nothing good comes from saving people from the goodness of your heart.

\--

Kimball is pacing. She sits with Palomo in the medical ward. 

Smith is bringing Palomo’s lilypack for him to cling to. He knew Palomo was nervous and always did better when he had something on hand.

Palomo looks at Kimball and then to Smith who is now dismissed from sight. Palomo feels himself start to swell up and swallows his tears. “Kimball?”

Kimball freezes and hurries over to him. “What were you thinking.” She has so little time before Haler makes his appearance. 

“I thought.. I could kill him.. Or maybe that I’d be cared for if.”

Kimball feels herself ready to break down. “Cared for if what?”

“If I get shot. I get out of training right? And then people will give me attention and not just the General.” Palomo looks into the head of his lily pad backpack.

Kimball sits by his bed. “No, gods no. Palomo, why would you think you needed to be hurt for someone to pay attention to you.”

Palomo looks at her and Kimball thought maybe she could read what he means. But the words just do not exist for it. He struggles for words and simply lays on his side holding the pack so close to himself.

Kimball stands. “Palomo. Please don’t go silent again. You were doing so well. Just.. just a few more words.” She can hear footsteps down the hall. She looks at Palomo who just stares at her solemnly. 

“I don't wanna talk any more.”

Kimball crosses her arms behind her back. She wants to comfort the kid but. No. It would probably frighten him.

Haler knocks on the door frame. “Venessa.”

Kimball stands and nods to him.

“At ease. At ease.” He turns his attention to Palomo. “That must have been very frightening for you Charlie.”

Palomo looks over to Haler and nods slowly.

“I really don’t think Palomo is up for talking,” Kimballs says, hoping maybe Haler will leave and she can go back to try and get something out of the kid.

“I’m not here to talk. I’m here with gifts.” Halor gently sets a box at the end of the bed. “Little survivor here has lived through an encounter with Locus. Why not celebrate that.”

Kimball looks at the box and scrunches up her nose.

Palomo sits up and sets his pack on the floor. He doesn’t get gifts often. But there’s a hesitant excitement. Palomo opens the box and reaches inside it. Its silky. Soft and Palomo pulls out what looks like a stuff frog and a dress.

Palomo forces a smile and ignores the dress as he holds the frog close. 

“That’s better. You look so much better with a smile.” Haler coos reaching his hand over to gently pet Palomo’s head.

Kimball grabs Haler’s wrist. “Sir, I think we need to talk.” Kimball lets go of his wrist and quickly thinks of something. “The Feds are getting dangerously close to our encampment. It won’t be long before we’re found if we don’t set up decoy locations.”

Haler lets a dark glare at her and lets back letting his hand to his side. His face softens and nods. “Yes. I thought it was rather odd how close they’ve gotten this week.” Haler heads to the door. “I hope you try on the dress, Charlie. It was very hard to find.”

Kimball follows to the door looking back at Palomo as he bounces the frog a moment and then looks down to his blanket. Kimball should probably talk about that too.

“You know.. I think Palomo gets uncomfortable with your attention sometimes.” Kimball finally says as they’re further down the hall.

Haler laughs. “Uncomfortable? Nonsense. You saw how happy she was with the frog.”

“That’s the other thing I’m getting at. Palomo doesn’t go by those pronouns. You’re making HIM uncomfortable when you keep trying to address him as.. A girl.”

“There’s no shame in being a woman.” Haler says and then stops a moment. He puts a hand to his face thinking over. “No no. You’re right. Palomo always seems happiest when I refer to her.. Him.. her? As a he.”

Kimball feels her face contort. “Is it really that hard to just say “him as a he?'' 

“No you’re right again. I must get better at that. This isn’t the the millenial age after all.”

“Haler.” Why do the children cry after they see you? She wants to ask that. But the words die on her lips.

“Yes, Lieutenant General?” He responds to his name and turns to face her. For a brief moment there's a scowl. “We have more important things right now don’t we? Like the decoy camps.”

“Of course, General.” She doesn’t want the red flags to be true. But the more she saw them. The more she remembered them. The more they burned a brighter red.

\--

Kimball remembers when she was younger. Nineteen; and her professor shot in front of her. She shielded her with her own body. And Kimball played dead in the library under the piling corpses.

Its hours after the shooting. Kimball keeps her eyes closed tight as she hears more foot steps in the library. But its a voice that calls to her.

“The area is clear, if there’s survivors please. We aren’t here to harm you.”

Kimball and a few others crawl out of crevices or from under bodies. She’s trembling and the blood has since dried and stained her college uniform. 

Haler was not a soldier then. He acted like a medic. Kneeling down and with other rebels and a woman who would be the first General of the New Republic.

Haler smiles softly and helps Kimball to her feet. “At ease. You’ll be fine. Everything is fine now, flower.”

Kimball still remembers strongly that moment. Covered in blood where Haler was the first to reach his hand to her. She can’t let that cloud her judgement of the current Haler. Or perhaps this is what Haler always was.

\--

Kimball sits in her room later that evening. Looking over old photos and many of the children the New Republic had taken in. How so many are gone now.

Kimball’s eyebrows furrow. How many kids have snuck onto the battlefield, how many kids took too many pills, how many kids did she find never woke up in the morning. How many of them were under Haler’s care even before he became General.

How many of them were trying to escape Haler, like Palomo tried to.

\--

Felix picks at his hair locking himself up in his quarters. He stripes down and throws on something loose and comfortable. Something that won’t rub against his skin and irritate his back.

He hears a knock at his door and scoofs throwing away his dolls and kicking them under the bed. He head to the door and god damn fucking shit its the kid again.

Palomo sniffling and clinging tightly to a frog stuffie and his backpack clung to his back.

Felix sighs. “What. Why are you here.”

“I’m scared.”

Felix feels his heart squeezed again and bites his lip. “Of what?”

“Everyone knows why.” Palomo grips the teddy bear tighter. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Felix scratches at his back. “Let me walk you back to your barracks. Or I don’t know probably the medical ward is better.”

“No please. You helped me before, so you gotta help me now. I wanna burn it.”

Felix scrunches his nose. “Burn what?”

“The dress he gave me.”

Felix’s face drops. “Did Haler give you a dress?” Why the fuck would you gift someone a dress after they survived near death. That frog looks new too. God fucking dammit what is he looking at here.

Palomo opens his mouth and starts to cry. “I don’t know why he keeps giving me things. I don’t want them.”

Felix wants to slam the door in the kid’s face. He wants to slam it shut and then go back to pretending he knew nothing about any of this. There’s no gross abuse of power. There’s no abused children.

There’s no one putting cigarettes out into his back as he sits silently as the older boy tells him how he’s kind of ugly in a cute way. There’s no older soldier putting his arm around him, pulling him close as he breathes smoke into Isaac’s face. 

There’s no one who wouldn't listen as Isaac bluntly outs the guy’s misbehavior. There’s no dismissal of the behavior as a needed process to toughen him up. There’s no one calling him a snitch. There’s no group of men shooting him on mission and leaving him to rot tied to a pole.

There was a group of soldiers who found him later on the verge of giving up. There was a boy no older than him who begs the Captain to take him with them. To save him and take pity on him.

Felix shuts his eyes tightly. Sam.

Felix looks down at Palomo. “Go to bed, kid. Please.”

Palomo sits down and goes through his pack pulling out the dress and wraps the frog plush in it.

Felix feels his stomach turn and his face contorts. 

“Burn them. You saved me earlier. Please save me again.”

Felix feels a glop down his face. He scowls. “Fine. Just shut up with your whining.”

Palomo bounces to his feet and there’s a relief that sickens Felix. And he’s unsure why.

\--

Jensen is dumping her pills down a toilet. It's been nearly a week. She’s panicking. She doesn’t know what these diet pills are really for. But something started a roller coaster of thoughts in her head. Like she knew all along what they really are.

She cries into the toilet. Knees under her so tired.

She wipes the snot from her face and looks at the bottle again. She could down them all and she’d be so far from this place. She plops two into her mouth and swallows them with spit she collected in her mouth.

She dumps more into her hand and stares at them. She could do it. It’d be so easy. 

But then she'd left Smith behind, Bitters, Jessica.

Should she stay for Palomo too? It's not an emotion she likes. This feeling of hate for the kid who honestly hasn’t done much of anything other than stare and meekly talk.

Jensen dumps her hand into the toilet and flushes them all down.

She stands and heads out to the locker room. Tying her hair up. She finds Smith near the door to the bathroom. He looks tearful and sick.

Jensen freezes and he looks at her.

He smiles so softly but she can see the tear stains and the puffy eyes.

“How long have you been out here for?”

“Since you first came in with the pills.”

Jensen looks down at the bottle and shoves them at Smith. “I only took two, John. I dumped the rest.”

Smith doesn’t say anything and hugs her tight. He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to lose anyone to themselves again. Especially not because medication took their life away.

Medication is supposed to help you live better, not to overdose.

\--

Matthews sets out his ruins in the middle of his room with Bitters. Asking if he should do something and often getting the same message as before. “Hero of Necessity.” He scrambles the letters.

Again the ruins pulled out say. “Hero of Necessity.”

Necessity. Again. Hero, once more.

Matthews stands. No one is doing anything about it, it seems. He grabs his coat and heads out of the room. He doesn’t need to rush, he’s not on kitchen duty today. 

Bitters wakes an hour after the door shuts softly. He looks to the floor  
seeing the ruins still spelling out the same thing no matter how much Maddie scrambles them. He rubs his eyes and suddenly it clicks what Matthews is going to do.

Bitters scrambles out of bed and hurries without nothing more than the undersuit he slept in.

\--

Haler has a tea set set out in his office. Warm cup full of honey and milk for Matthews. “Ruins are dangerous, Matthews.” Haler sits down on the other end of the table. “You never know what’s actually talking to you. And much too easy to manipulate.”

Matthews sips the warm drink. It's so sweet it drowns out anything else on his tongue. Almost unbearable. He puts the cup down with both his hands. “I know. But it seemed so urgent. I know I should of came sooner but Bitters doesn’t like you.”

Haler laughs softly. “Course he doesn’t. I’m an authority figure. Bitters doesn’t like people telling him what to do. Even when they have their best interest at heart.” Haler says slowly trailing the topic away from where it started.

Matthews dangles his legs looking into his cup. Something seems off though. But he can’t pin it. “I just. I just wanna help Palomo.” Matthews tries to focus the topic back on track.

Haler sips his tea and eyes down. “Oh? I’m sure you can be very helpful. To all of us. You’re getting to that age, Maddie.. Was it Maddie?”

“Yeah,” Matthews beams lightly. He liked when people used Maddie on him. It made him feel warm and fuzzy. “But do you mean me getting to train? Like with Palomo?”

“No. Well. Maybe just one time, but not yet. When you’re just a little older.” Haler sets his cup down. He stands and heads to a desk. Getting out a small doll, a cat plush. “In the mean time, don’t worry about Palomo. I’ll take good care of them.”

Matthews tilts his head and feels his eyes grow tired.

“Oh look at you. You best be going back to your barracks, Maddie, before you pass out.”

\--

Matthews holds the doll in his hand and heads out the room. He feels so tired.

Bitters sees him and runs quick on his feet. “Maddie!” He grabs his shoulders and looks over him. Looking for injury, bruising, cuts. Anything. But there’s nothing. Just Matthews with tired eyes as he starts to lean on him.

“I wanna sleep, Antoine.. Can I go back to bed?”

Bitters looks at the door and up at Haler. Glaring and a silent threat.

“He’s a good kid, Bitters. You best make sure he gets to bed.”

Bitters glares further and hurries Matthews away from the quarters. Eventually having to carry him as best he can as Matthews starts to grow weaker and more tired.

\--

Matthews acted fine and unhurt. Bitters though kept Matthews at his side during lunch the next few days. Refusing to let Matthews out of his sight for too long. 

Smith could see his friend’s ailing mental state and panic. Would he call it paranoia? He wouldn’t dare. But Smith still wasn’t sure he would damn anyone for the fault at hand. If he admits Haler is a bad man, then… then he just let himself become harmed. Jensen get sick, and Bitters’s mental state deteriorates.

Smith didn’t want to think on that. Was he compliant? In all of this? Could he help if he had stayed a medic. He’s not sure.

But it's just like back home. Where he ignored his grandfather’s ailing mental health and did nothing but read his books on medical history and Earth plagues.

Till Smith woke up one morning. Calling his grandfather to the kitchen for breakfast. And when there was no answer. Smith had found him in a state he will never allow a repeat of.

If Smith had paid attention, his grandfather might have never written his goodbyes and overdosed.

Smith shakes his head out of his day dreaming memory. “Bitters, you can.. Talk to me. I will listen.”

Bitters picks at his food and Matthews looks over to Smith. “What am I supposed to tell you, John? That I told you so? That I was right? That I think Haler …” Bitters looks at Matthews and his heart aches. He got there in time. Matthews was awake the entire time. But he has no fucking proof Haler drugged him. Or why. Was he threatening him? Because he knew Bitters knows?

Smith grips Bitters hand. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. Don’t you dare think this is your fault, Smith.” Bitters glares at him. “It's not our fault.” Bitters has to keep telling himself that, or he’ll start to think he too is a monster for letting this go on as long as it did.

Smith takes Bitters hand. To comfort his fears and acknowledge his words.

Matthews looks at them. And knows part of it is because he went to see Haler. But nothing happened. He was just given a toy and tea. Why won’t anyone explain what he’s supposed to look out for with Haler. Why can’t they tell him.

\--

Kimballs quarters were comfy. With collected old embroidered cushions. Both collected from scavenges and ones her grandmother had taught her to make when she was a young girl.

She felt wrong having a room rarely shared with others. Especially now. She wonders how much of Haler giving her her own room was him keeping her isolated and above the others.

She hears a knock and opens to find Felix looking tired, both because it was getting late. But it felt like a different exhaustion.

“Felix. What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk, Vanessa.”

She moves and allows him into her room then closes the door. “Is this about Haler? Or something else.”

“Look I want to apologize for saying the things I did in front of Private Bitters.” Felix doesn’t feel like he should apologize. Given he was only speaking the truth. The truth hurts, it always will. But there was one thing she was right about. “I should of been softer with my statements. I shouldn’t of treated it so dismissively.” He pulls at his hair.

Kimball knows that tick. It's the same as her armor scratching. She reaches over and takes Felix’s hand. “What’s the plan then.”

“I’m not sure. I could dig around for evidence. We could.. Take care of the issue ourselves?”

Kimball is silent. She squeezes Felix’s hand and bites her lip looking to the floor. “And if we’re wrong? What about your alarm fatigue warning?”

“Then I’m wrong. But do we really want to wait around? Fresh evidence means fresh victims. And I know you don’t want that.” Even though it means solid proof. But Felix remembers the bounty days. Siris would of taken up this issue right away. He wouldn’t of waited around till a scared kid begged him to burn those… well.. Felix can hardly call them gifts to the child given how unwanted they were.

It was simply such a shame.. That Palomo would get help too late.

\--

Palomo sits in Halers office looking into his cup of coco. Crying. Haler looked deeply upset.

The General’s soft face held discontent. “You burned them, Charlie. You burned that dress and I took so much trouble in finding one in your size.”

Palomo cries harder.

“You even burned the frog. I thought you liked frogs?”

“N..I.”

Haler’s voice is too soft and kind. He walks over to Palomo and feels his fingers in his hair. Then trailing down to the back of Palomo’s neck. 

Palomo is frozen. Uncertain what to do. “I’m…. I was scared.” He manages to say. Which appeases Haler for the moment.

The General leans down and hold Palomo ever so close. “I know it's scary. Having my attention. But it's good. I care for you. You’re my favorite.” How many time he uses those words. On Jensen, Smith. Even on people who don’t know his true affections like Kimball. Anyone who’s weak enough to trust him.

And he pays Felix for that trust. Everyone else loved Haler. For he was a good man at heart. He wore a fools gold on his sleeves and everyone believed it to be real.

Haler wraps his arms around ever tighter to Palomo. Keeping him still and steady. “Would you like me to prove you’re my favorite?”

Palomo isn’t able to speak. And Haler never cared if he said no anyway. He never truly cared, he simply liked the power and position he was in with all these people. Yes Palomo was young but… he didn’t want to risk not having this chance. His eyes are delighted.

And Palomo felt sick. Used. Hurt. Tired.

He leaves and hides in the shower. Doesn’t bother to use his swim suit. He’s in his clothes and letting the water roll off him.

Kimball finds him by the third hour he stayed in the shower for. She covers her mouth and runs to him. Felix isn’t far behind and his chest is tight.

Palomo tried to strangle himself with rope in the shower. It was… lucky the kid was never good at tying nose. Unfortunate enough that it lasted long enough for him to pass out and it breaks for him to fall to the floor.

Felix is furious. A numb sort of furious you get, like back in the day when a case as awful as this runs cold. But instead of it going cold. Its hot with Felix and Kimball as near witness of its horrors. Felix feels his stomach in knots and he twists a smile on his lips. Oh… but at least he won’t feel an empathy burn when he gets Haler alone.

\--

Palomo wakes up in the medic ward again. Haler has already spread Palomo’s mental health being the fault of the Federation. In his twice survival of Locus. The Child was merely too exhausted to go on.

Kimball hides her fury under her helmet. She wanted to scream. But now the rumour is spread. And all loyal will defend it. Unless she gets evidence. Even then?

It's easier to think it was the child’s fault then their own skeevy General. Kimball wished he had never gotten this role. That he died so early in this war. Even if it meant she was dead too.

Smith is the first of his friends to arrive. His face contorted into fear and then relief to see Palomo alway and his neck bandaged. “Charles. Oh thank god.” He says letting his emotions weigh on his shoulder. He runs in and slows as he reaches Palomo’s side. “I’m so sorry, Palomo. I should of been watching you better. I shouldn’t of let you leave the medical ward in the first place.”

Palomo looks up at him with eyes deader than before. He tries to mouth words but all that comes out is a pained soft noise.

“Don’t talk. Its okay. I’m here now. I’ll be your nurse from here on.” Smith smiles and there’s so many tears in his eyes. It causes Palomo to break down as well.

\--

Felix messages Locus deep into the next night. He’s ranting raving. Angry. Shouting at their secret meet up. 

“I need to get rid of him fucking Now. I don't care if it speeds up the plan. I can’t stand burning my back any more Locus.”

Locus stands silently. “I need to be rid of my current puppet as well. She is getting testy and too smart for her own good. She knows too much about what we’re doing now.”

“If I can put Kimball in charge and least something like this won’t happen again.” Felix says nearly ignoring Locus. Its Locus’ own fault for letting her get that smart. But that’s not what Felix wants to be angry about right now.

Locus places a hand on Felix’s shoulder as he pulls at his hair.

“Give me time and I will create a false meeting for the Generals to meet at. And we may both get rid of our problems.”

\--

Felix waited. And finally on the third day. A message is delivered to Haler. A meeting between Generals to discuss possible surrender terms.

Haler laughs at first. But then he gets a look in his eyes. Excitement. 

Kimball looks at Felix. Curious about this timing. But she could prove nothing here either.

Felix shrugs.

\--

Haler and a few loyal guards. Felix made sure they were the skeevy fucks who made the children uncomfortable. There can be no chances after this. And if Felix is wrong. He needs to be killing these people anyway. So no skin off his nose.

“Felix, we’ve been here an hour. Where is the Federation General?” Felix figures it's now or never. He clicks on his radio and Locus drops his General from the rooftop onto the meeting table alone. The woman’s helmet cracked open and her head shot quick and swift, neck snapped for extra measure.

“Well there she is, General Haler. Better late then never.” Felix says with a hint of glee on his voice.

Locus drops down and lets his Pirates show themselves blocking the exits. 

“What is the meaning of this, Felix?” Haler backs up and the guards are quickly shot down.

“The meaning? Well Haler. I normally love giving this speech to people I personally kill. But for you. You get to die knowing nothing. Because that’s what child abusers get, Haler. Nothing.” Felix takes out his knife and Haler goes for his gun.

Locus shuts off the lights.

\--

Felix returns with blood on himself. And many wounds. He let Locus deal the damage on him. Locus was good at non fatal injuries and he needed to make sure none of his wounds were self inflicted. Suzy, their medic, was good at telling self-inflicted wounds from not.

Felix gets back to the New Republic. Collapsed at the front of the cave. He grins. Seeing Kimball wait for him and run once he had come into view. “Venessa. He’s gone. But now.. Who will lead us?”

\--

It was so easy to put Kimball in charge and for her to accept it. Her bleeding heart was too big for her sleeve sometimes.

The children of the New Republic hear the news. See the adults mourn their beloved General. And are uncertain how to face themselves the next day.

The mourning quickly turns to horror as Kimball presents evidence of the Generals possessions to the crowd. She will not allow the General to be missed a holy man.

\--

There is no more abuser at the Altar of the New Republic. No wolf in swan skin.

Bitters clings to Matthews in the unused training room. He’s so thankful, Maddie will never have to know why the children feared him.

Smith clings to Jensens hand. Both uncertain where this will put them. “What do we do now?” Smith asks. Bitters is the oldest out of them. Surely he knows what to do with these emotions.

Bitters looks at Smith and Jensen. “We just… we just be thankful.”

\--

The group eventually go to bring Palomo the news. Surely he’d be happiest to know Haler’s death and that he was free.

But Palomo merely broke into tears. 

“Aren’t you happy, Lomo?” Jensen says puzzled. “He’s gone now.”

But Palomo would not speak for that month and many after. All he knew is that he’d been damaged and only after he was hurt did people start to see. Or care.

It was like a child’s broken logic proven true. And Palomo would have to live with that.

Jensen hugs him. Tight and close. And Palomo feels that familiar fear in his gut but he knows. Jensen is different. Jensen is true kindness and that she loves him. That he might love her.

But is that trauma in itself?

“It’ll be okay now, Charlie.”

\--

But.

There are no happy endings in war.

Felix knows in the end Locus will make his move to harden the Federation. He knows that in the end he’ll have to kill people he had just saved. He’s fine with that perhaps. What he wasn’t fine with was that he’d given permission to Locus to use this information as he pleased.

“Just do with it as needed to get your new puppet under your thumb.”

“Then the Federation will see this act as The New Republic eating their own. Kimball will be the savage terrorist who took out her own General for a chance at the seat.”

Felix wished he had said no. But there is no point to it. They all will die regardless.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you're emotionally okay getting this far. I know it was a rough journey. But I'm glad you made it. Please rest well and go find some fluff.


End file.
